Forbidden Fruit
by MizJoely
Summary: Sarah Williams successfully ran the Labyrinth and brought her baby brother home. However, she also brought home something more, something belonging as much to the Goblin King as to herself, much to her shock. Angsty and dark, so be warned, but eventual Jareth/Sarah (Sareth? Jarah?), if the two of them can overcome their mutual stubborness and anger with one another.
1. Prologue - After the Labyrinth

_A/N: Sigh. I know this is a bad idea, posting a new story when I still have so many unfinished ones out there Sherlollyland, but some recent, very encouraging reviews of my other Laby stories made me feel a tad bit guilty for not posting this story as I promised (gulp) almost a year ago, so here it is. I do have large chunks of it written and hope to post chapters on a weekly basis. But no promises, I know better than that. _

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue: After the Labyrinth<strong>

She survived the Labyrinth, she defeated the Goblin King, she rescued her baby brother and made her way safely home again. She partied with her new friends for an hour before sending them back through the mirror and into their own realm, giving her exactly another fifteen minutes to revel in the feeling of being utterly in control of her own fate before her father and step-mother returned home and she was plunged back into the cold reality of being a fifteen year-old girl in a mundane world.

However, she was a fifteen-year-old girl who'd received a unique perspective on life, and was determined to do her best with the life she had rather than mooning after something that might never be. Maybe one day she'd follow in her mother's footsteps and become a famous actress, but for right now she had a home and a family and most importantly, a baby brother who needed her to be there for him.

With all that on her mind, it was no wonder that another three months passed before she realized she'd returned from the Labyrinth with an unexpected — and unwelcome — souvenir.

It took two more months before she was willing to accept the unacceptable; to realize that what she'd thought had happened only in a dream was, instead, terribly real.

She might even have gone on trying to deny what was happening to her, the way her body was changing, if she hadn't fainted in gym glass and been brought to the nurse's office.

And if the nurse hadn't said those six simple words that turned her world upside down: "How far along are you, Sarah?"

**oOoOoOoOo**

"She what?"

Henry Williams, father to fifteen-year-old Sarah from his first marriage and one-year-old Toby from his current marriage, stared at his wife, trying to take in what she was saying. He'd just walked in the door after a two-day business trip out of town, and his brain felt fried; surely he'd misheard Karen? He finished hanging his beige London Fog rain jacket up on its usual hook and waited for her to tell him whatever it was she was trying to tell him about his daughter.

"She fainted in gym class," Karen repeated, groping for the right way to tell her husband what had happened. God, this was going to be so hard…

OK, so she'd said what he'd thought she'd said. His daughter had fainted. "Is she all right?" he asked worriedly. Fears of anorexia flashed across his mind; she was such a fussy eater, always had been, never had a big appetite; or was there some kind of vitamin deficiency, something he or Karen should have noticed?

His wife interrupted his frantic thoughts as she laid a reassuring hand on his arm. She offered him a wan smile that did nothing to hide her discomfort as she nodded to indicate that yes, Sarah was OK. "She's up in her room now, but honey…"

He'd turned to make his way up the stairs to check on his daughter himself but paused at the continuing note of worry in his wife's voice. "Karen? What is it? You said she was all right…"

"She is," she rushed to reassure him. "But honey, I took her to Doctor Hamilton, and he confirmed what the school nurse suspected." She drew a deep breath. Now for the hard part. The really, really, _really_ hard part… "Sarah's about…five months pregnant."

Henry slowly groped his way to the nearest chair and sat heavily, all thoughts of heading upstairs to check on Sarah vanished as his mind went blank. His baby girl was…going to have a baby herself? How could that even be possible?! He looked at his wife through disbelieving eyes as he protested, "Did you know she had a boyfriend? I didn't even know she had a boyfriend!"

If he thought what Karen had just told him was the hard part, he was in for a grave disappointment. She walked over and knelt in front of him, taking his hand in hers. "The doctor thinks…from the way she's acting…she might have been raped."

Henry gazed unblinkingly at his wife for a long, silent moment, then dropped his head into his hands as a sob made its way out of his throat and into the muffling nest of his fingers. "This is my fault," she heard him say in a broken voice as she rose out of her own chair and hurriedly threw her arms around him. "I wasn't there for her, always away on business…"

"Sweetie, don't do this to yourself," Karen whispered as she felt the tears she'd suppressed all day threatening to spring free, clogging her throat and hurting, God, how much they were hurting her. All of them were hurting, all but Toby who was too young to understand the tragedy that had so unexpectedly struck his family. "It's not your fault, you know it isn't."

If it was anyone's fault, it was his damned ex-wife's, but Karen wasn't about to express that thought aloud. Sarah had been so hell-bent on following in her will-o-the-wisp, now-you-hear-from-her-now-you-don't mother's theatrical footsteps that she spent far too much time alone, away from home, lost in some imaginary world she'd conjured up for herself. Even if things had changed a few months ago, it had seemed to be for the better; Sarah had begun acting more responsibly, coming home right after school instead of lingering in the park by herself, spending more time with Toby, giving Karen a lot less attitude and being more helpful around the house…

_We should have known something was wrong, that something changed besides her attitude,_ Karen told herself wearily as she held her husband's heartbroken form. _I should have noticed and called her out on it, or paid more attention._

Instead, she'd taken Sarah's change in attitude as the positive it seemed rather than the negative she now knew it had been. Someone had attacked Sarah, raped her, gotten her pregnant, and her young step-daughter — God, she was only turning sixteen next week! — had responded by forcing it out of her mind and acting in such a startlingly different manner that only a complacent fool could have mistaken shock and fear for calm and acceptance of responsibility.

A complacent fool like Karen Davis Williams. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Karen forced her guilt and anger at herself aside. Her husband and step-daughter needed her right now; she would have to be the strong one, just as she always had been her entire life. She would have to be the one to make the decisions and try to make Sarah and Henry to go along with those decisions.


	2. Decision Time

_A/N: Mentions of underage sex and possible rape. A reminder to my readers that this story will be fairly dark and will also explore the complexities of non-human interpretations of love and consent and sexuality, since Jareth is NOT HUMAN. I should have put this note in the first chapter, but here it is now. All chapters will be clearly labeled as to possible triggers._

**One Week Later**

There was no boyfriend. Sarah claimed not to remember what had happened to her, how she'd gotten pregnant or who by, and refused to speak to a therapist about it. Flat out refused; when Henry, exasperated and out of patience, threatened to drag her to a session kicking and screaming if he had to, Karen was forced to step in before things escalated further. Forcing a traumatized teenager to undergo therapy wasn't going to do any of them any good. Sooner or later, she counseled her angry, confused and heart-sick husband, Sarah would realize she needed someone to talk to, to help her through this, and until that time came, the best thing they could do would be to offer her all their love and support.

But that was something for the unknown future; in the meantime, there were definitely things that needed to be discussed. Decisions to be made. So Karen smoothed things over as best she could between her husband and step-daughter, and took Henry aside to discuss those options while Sarah, sullen and uncommunicative, remained in her bedroom. She'd barely left it all week, only going as far as the bathroom when necessity forced it on her, the trays of food Karen brought her remaining mostly uneaten.

"Options?" Henry stared at his wife blankly, looking so lost and forlorn after his latest blaze of temper at his daughter that Karen felt her heart aching all over again.

She held out her hand and he clasped it in his as she led him to their bed, sitting next to him and facing him. "We both know it's too late for an abortion," she said quietly, keeping her voice as calm and soothing as she knew how. Henry was being emotional enough for both of them, and his ex-wife certainly hadn't been any better when he'd called to break the news to her. She was in England and couldn't possibly leave in the middle of her show, she had commitments, surely there was nothing she could do to help, blah, blah, blah. All the excuses Karen had heard before, too many times to count.

The idea of abortion had been brought up by her in that first conversation; even after a horrified Henry reminded her that Sarah was already five months along, she'd said something flippant about clinics being available in Europe, discreet clinics that wouldn't ask questions and would make sure their daughter's problem was "taken care of" quickly and safely with a minimum of fuss. Sarah was already traumatized by a rape she claimed not to remember; how on Earth would she deal with a late-term abortion urged on her by her irresponsible mother?

Karen found herself grinding her teeth at the memory of her husband's shell-shocked face when he related the gist of his ex-wife's message to his current wife. Still, that was over and done with. The bitch wouldn't be there to hold Sarah's hand no matter how this played out, so Karen knew she would have to be the one to convince Henry and his daughter that her plan was the best one.

The best for all of them, the baby included. "Henry, I think we should consider adoption."

He stared at his wife, brow knitted in confusion. "You want to adopt Sarah's baby?"

She'd never even considered such a thing, but didn't tell him that, merely shook her head and replied: "No, honey. I think we should contact a lawyer and find a good family to take Sarah's baby as soon as it's born. It would be the best thing for both of them, don't you think? Her baby will get a good home and Sarah can try to put her life back together again. She won't tell us who the father is, and if she was raped, then surely she won't want a permanent reminder of what happened to her in her life," she continued, spelling things out as clearly and succinctly as possible.

Ultimately it would be Sarah's decision, of course, but Karen hoped this was the one she would make. It would give her baby a loving home and give Sarah the chance to try and rebuild her life; to finish her education and go to college and find someone to fall in love with and marry, some day. All things Karen knew Sarah wanted for herself, and things both she and her father wanted for the girl as well.

There was a long moment of silence before Henry spoke. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice barely a whisper. "You're right. We should probably go...talk to her about it."

Karen kissed him. "Yeah. And we shouldn't put it off, all right? We'll talk to her after we put Toby to sleep?"

Henry nodded wordlessly, and Karen left him to prepare dinner. All she wanted to do was hold him and tell him everything was going to be all right, but they both knew that would be nothing but a lie at this point. Everything wasn't going to be all right, not for a long time.

For Sarah, possibly not ever.

**oOo**

"Sweetie, it really is the best option, we hope you know that."

Sarah shook her head as she stared at Karen, wide-eyed and disbelieving. "You want me to give my baby up? You want me to let someone adopt him?"

She'd decided the baby was a boy; the Goblin King, after all, would never bother fathering a mere girl. No, he'd knocked her up and left her carrying his son and now Karen and her Dad and even her Mom wanted her to give the baby up. Her Mom, in fact, much to Sarah's horror, wanted her to fly to Europe or Mexico and have an abortion. She'd said so the one time Sarah had called her. She'd needed to hear her mother's voice, but the words she'd spoken had been horrifying even if the tone was meant to be soothing. Her Mom actually thought that would be the best solution, even though Sarah was just over five months pregnant at this point.

She hadn't spoken to her mother since then; had, in fact, hung up the phone before desperately seeking out Karen and sobbing her fear and upset into the other woman's shoulder. It was strange, how her feelings toward her "wicked" step-mother had taken such a radical turn, how Karen had somehow turned into her rock...until now.

Karen was the one who'd come up with the idea of Sarah giving up her baby for adoption. It didn't feel like a betrayal, not the way her own mother's advice had, but Sarah still felt conflicted. How could she do that? How could she just let this baby go, even if she was terrified at the thought of motherhood? She was still in high school, after all, had two years left before college…God, she couldn't go to college if she had a baby, couldn't start that acting career she'd been determined on for as long as she could remember…

None of those reasons, however, were what really mattered. What if there was something…different…about her child, something the adoptive parents noticed and accused her of hiding from them? Would her baby have Jareth's fey eyes, his elvishly pointed ears, his blonde mane of hair…

But then, what if she kept the baby and her own parents saw those same differences? What if this destroyed the tentative understanding she and Karen had come to? If the baby were adopted by others, then any problems that might arise would be theirs to deal with.

She felt cowardly and miserable even thinking such thoughts, but as Karen and her father continued to press her, she finally gave into their pleas and agreed. "OK, but make sure he goes to a really good home," she whispered. Her father hugged her and kissed her on the forehead and told her she was making the right decision; her mother called later that evening and told her the same (which didn't make Sarah feel any better), and Karen just stood silently by and kept her mouth shut, which to Sarah was infinitely easier to bear.

And through it all, Toby behaved like a perfect little angel, crawling to Sarah at every opportunity and smiling his sweet smile as if to let her know that everything was going to be all right.

If only that had been true.


	3. End of the World?

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who follows and reviews and favorites this story. Sorry this chapter is so short but it really needed to end where it ends._

* * *

><p><strong>Four Months Later – The Underground<strong>

They said they'd always be there for her, whenever she needed them. They said it, they meant it…and yet, after the first few months of human-time passed, Sarah stopped calling on them, stopping speaking to them either through the looking-glass in her bed chamber or by summoning them to join her on her side of the portal that was theirs alone to use.

It was worrisome, no mistake on that. Sir Didymus didn't like to be worried; by nature he was a happy-go-lucky creature, fearsome in battle, brave unto death, but living life in the moment at hand at every chance. Even so, he was the first to notice her sudden distance, the gardener being too taken with his work on the castle grounds and Ludo being Ludo, as he always was and ever would be; caller of stone and as stolid as the Earth herself and untroubled by any sense of time whatsoever.

"Huh, yer right," Hoggle grunted when Didymus raised the issue with his two boon companions. Ambrosias, his steady steed and other boon companion — was ever a creature blessed with such an abundance of boon companions as he, Sir Didymus? — barked his own agreement. Or perhaps at the fairies buzzing around them, ignored for once by the dwarf and taking advantage of his distraction, cheeky things. "Guess I sorter lost track a'time for a while. Blame _him_," he added, jerking his head in the direction of the Goblin King's castle.

Their villainous overlord had vanished for a time after Sarah's triumph over him, no doubt sulking in his winter palace like the great child he was, but had returned mere days after Sarah's triumph, restoring the Goblin Castle to its former, er, glory in the blink of an eye and demanding that all his servants return to their at once to their duties.

Even Hoggle, whom he'd once sworn to exile to the farthest reaches of the kingdom, along with Didymus and Ludo and Ambrosias and any other who so much as crossed the fair maiden's path. Unfair, but the Goblin King was e'er a capricious thing, overflowing with whims and tempers even for one of the Fae.

"Didymus!" The dwarf's angry shout brought the self-proclaimed knight back to himself with a start. "Didja even hear me? I said, when was the last time ya tried to call her through the mirror?"

The fox-goblins ears drooped, showing how shamed he was that he'd allowed himself to become distracted by musings on the Goblin King when the Fair Sarah required his full attention. "Twas only yestereve, good Gardener," he replied. Ambrosias barked confirmation — or at the fairies that were tweaking his tail and causing him great annoyance — and Didymus nodded more firmly. "Yes, yestereve. I am certain." His ears and tail drooped even further. "She did not respond, though I saw here within her chamber." His eyes grew dreamy at the memory. "She was there, lying on her bed, her gentle hands resting on the great mound of her belly…"

Even Ludo's ears pricked at that description, although Didymus wasn't sure why it brought such a strangled gasp from Hoggle's lips. "What? Did I say something wrong? Is something amiss?"

Hoggle groaned and slapped his hand across his face. "Is something…Didymus, do ya have shit for brains? Dontcha know a pregnant girl when ya see one?!" He glowered at the other three and lowered his voice as he added, "And I think we all know who the daddy is!"

**Aboveground**

Oh God, it hurt so much, she'd never felt anything like the excruciating pain of trying to push a living human being out of her body. She squeezed the nurse's hand desperately, clinging to the human contact even as another contraction rippled across her abdomen. She cried out, barely hearing the soothing murmur of the nurse's voice, coaxing her to open her eyes and focus on something outside her own body, to help keep the pain from overwhelming her.

Too late for that. Another cry tore itself from Sarah's throat as the doctor said something about her cervix and dilating that probably was important but right now was just words without meaning. The only thing she understood clearly, hours or seconds or minutes or days later was when he told her it was time to push, just a few good pushes and it would be over, she could rest, the baby would be born and she could go to sleep…

Her head and shoulders raised up from the exam table, muscles clenching as she strained to do as the doctor was urging her to do, the nurse still holding her hand although the woman's fingers must be squashed to two dimensions by now. Then there was the sensation of something moving, slithering between her legs, leaving her body and making its way into the doctor's waiting hands, and the pain subsided as suddenly as it had begun earlier that night.

She fell back on the pillows with a gasp, unclenching her hands and releasing the nurse, who offered a comforting pat on her shoulder before hurrying down to join the doctor and the other nurse in examining her baby.

"Congratulations, Sarah! It's a boy."

Dimly she heard the baby wailing in protest at the violence of its arrival in the outside world – no, _his_ arrival, they'd said it was a boy, right? Sarah managed a smile as she levered herself back up on her elbows. "Can I…can I hold him?" she whispered, knowing it would be the only time she'd be able to do so, since the adoptive parents were waiting with Karen and Dad in the other room, waiting to take their new son away with them, as they'd all agreed, papers signed and lawyers fees paid. It was for the best, she kept telling herself that even as she strained for a good look at her son.

Her son, and Jareth's.

"Just as soon as we clean him up a bit," the doctor promised, turning away and taking the still-crying infant with him. Sarah caught a glimpse of golden hair and slimy red skin – nothing weird about that, all babies looked like slimy aliens when they were born, so Karen had assured her – and rested her head on the pillows once more, closing her eyes as the nurse returned to fuss over her, helping to raise the head of the bed so Sarah could more easily hold her son once the clean-up and weighing and measuring had been finished.

Her son. A flash of panic overcame her; how could she call him that, even in her own mind, when she'd already signed him away to a pair of strangers who had no idea of their new baby's unusual heritage? Her panic abated only when the smiling nurse brought the still fussing bundle over to her, carefully placing Sarah's son in her arms.

One look told her everything she needed to know, settled her into an accepting calm.

He was perfect.

He was her son.

And there was no way she was letting the Gendries take him away from her.

It was at that very moment, her moment of certainty, as love for her newborn son filled her heart and she opened her mouth to tell the doctor that she'd changed her mind, that the world ended.


	4. Taken

_A/N: OK, folks, here is where the story starts to get very, very dark. Bad Things will happen to Sarah (but anyone who's read even one of my stories knows I always, always have a happy ending, it's not in me to leave things in a bad place, ever). _

* * *

><p>Everything went black, as if the power had suddenly gone out. Sarah heard someone cursing and the crash of an instrument tray being knocked into, then silence joined the blackness and she felt her skin prickling.<p>

Something was very, very wrong.

"Hello?" she called out warily as her arms tightened protectively around her son. Even he'd fallen silent, stopped crying, the instant that suspicious darkness fell. "Can someone tell me what happened?" She waited for an answer, for the emergency generators to kick on, for something to happen.

Nothing did. Continued silence met her question, and she half-raised herself on her elbows, not sure what she was going to do, when a voice froze her in place. A familiar, unexpected voice, speaking in low tones and coming from near the foot of the bed. "Hello, Sarah. I've come for what's mine."

Lights sprang into existence as he finished speaking, but not the overhead glare of fluorescent; instead, the room was lit by a dancing fairy light that only outlined the Goblin King's lean figure, leaving his face in shadow but clearly showing the blanketed form he held cradled in his arms.

Her eyes flew down as she gasped in shock; her own arms were empty, cradling nothing.

Jareth, the Goblin King, had her son.

"Jareth, please, give him to me," she said, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. "I promise I'll take care of him…"

He interrupted her with a bark of disbelieving laughter. "Truly? And how will you do that, when you've already wished him away to the care of strangers?"

"Give him back!" she cried, raising herself from the birthing bed and reaching out for her baby, physical and emotional pain choking further words from her lips.

Jareth half-turned his body, shielding the boy from her reach and gaze. In spite of the darkness hiding his features she felt the intensity of his eyes on hers, and she shivered. "Oh no, Sarah. He's an unwanted child, wished away by his ungrateful mother, and now he's mine to raise. My heir." He looked down at the baby, and Sarah imagined she could see the hard angles of his face softening, a smile curving his lips as his voice lost its edge. "My son," he whispered, his voice gone from accusing and hateful to loving and filled with wonder in the blink of an eye.

Then he turned his attention back to Sarah, and all softness fled. "You didn't want him," he snarled as she tried once again to protest, cutting off her words, striking her dumb with the sheer vehemence of his anger. "But I do." He took a step back. "Goodbye, Sarah."

As Jareth and the baby vanished, she screamed, then the world tilted and she fell into darkness.

**oOo**

"Dad? Karen? What happened?"

Sarah's voice sounded weak, raspy, as if she hadn't used it in a long time. Or as if she'd been screaming…which, she remembered suddenly, she had. First at the unbelievable pain of giving birth, then when Jareth had shown up…

She sat up, looking around wildly as terror clogged her throat, threatening to cut off her breath. "Where is he?"

"Where's who, honey?" her dad asked, reaching out a soothing hand and placing it over hers. He tried to ease her back down onto the pillows, but she fought him as best she could when her body felt as weak as her voice.

"My baby," she whispered, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Jareth had taken him…_her_ child, _her_ son. Never mind that she'd agreed to give him up for adoption; one look at the bawling, red-faced little bundle the nurse had presented to her and she'd fallen instantly, hopelessly in love with her son. She'd tried to tell Jareth that, but of course the stubborn ass wouldn't listen. "Where's my baby? He took him, didn't he."

She fell back against the pillow as her dad and Karen exchanged nervous looks. "It's OK, you can tell me," she said, stifling a sob.

"Sweetie, we're not sure what you're talking about," her father said, perching uneasily on the edge of the bed and taking her hand in his. "What baby?"

Sarah stared up at her father, horror squeezing her heart in her chest. "My baby, Dad. The baby I just had. A little boy. I was going to give him up, the Gendries were going to adopt him, but I can't, I love him too much." She was babbling, fighting not to recognize the blank expression in her father and step-mother's eyes…trying not to understand that they had no idea what she was talking about.

That they had no memories of her pregnancy, no memories that she'd just given birth to a healthy baby (half-Fey) boy.

Her father's next words only confirmed that unwanted, terrifying suspicion. "Sarah," he said, his voice cautiously soothing, "there's no baby. You were in a car accident, don't you remember? You've been unconscious for a couple of days, but you're going to be all right…"

"No I won't," she contradicted him, turning her face away from his and allowing the tears she'd been choking back to fall.

**oOo**

She heard them, later, when they thought she'd fallen back asleep. The doctor, so solid and reassuring, relating her injuries and how well she was recovering from them (oh Jareth, he'd even changed her body when he altered reality, a head injury to explain her confusion and abdominal injuries requiring surgery to explain her other pains, so thorough she could just scream). The doctor continued speaking, telling her father and Karen in a low, soothing voice that sometimes people who'd been in a coma had especially vivid dreams, dreams they'd awakened from believing them to be real. But she knew the truth; she'd had a baby, and Jareth had used the fact that she was planning to give it up for adoption as the excuse he needed to steal him from her. Yes, he was the father, but she was the mother, and she was the one her baby needed.

It wouldn't do her any good to argue with her dad or Karen or the doctor; none of them would remember anything about her pregnancy, and she had no doubt that her obstetrician would have no memory of her being his patient, either. All she could do was go along with whatever they told her to do, speed up her recovery as best she could from this fictional car accident, and get to a mirror so she could ask Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus to help her get her baby back.

Her chance came a few days later, when she was finally steady enough on her feet to take herself to the small bathroom attached to her private hospital room. She'd been chafing with impatience for the all-clear, not willing to risk trying to do it herself and setting her recovery back one minute longer than she had to. She'd taken the doctor's warnings about not getting out of bed without help until now very seriously, and was rewarded by his permission to try it the night before — with a nurse's aide standing by, just in case.

Success had made her giddy, and she'd almost wanted to sneak out in the middle of the night, but even taking those few steps on her own exhausted her so much that instead she'd allowed herself to fall asleep, with the promise of the morning in the forefront of her mind.

Morning had come, the nurse had looked in on her, watched her get out of bed, then allowed her the privacy of the bathroom after reminding her about the emergency call button and promising to check in on her in a half-hour, regardless.

The bathroom door didn't lock, since the hospital staff needed to be able to come to a patient's aid if they fell or couldn't get themselves off the pot or something, but Sarah closed the door and ran the water as if she were going to take the shower she'd been given permission to indulge in. The noise would help cover her voice as she called to her friends. "Hoggle! Sir Didymus! Ludo! Can you hear me? I need your help!"

The mirror clouded up instantly, as if they'd been waiting for her, and she stood facing it, heart pounding in her chest as she waited for it to clear and show her the beloved faces she so desperately wanted to see. They would help her get her baby back, she knew they would. All they had to do was get her through the mirror-portal and back to the Underground, then she'd make her way to the castle and get her son away from Jareth.

She was so busy making plans that it took her a moment to realize that the glass had cleared, and that it was no longer showing her her own reflection. It took her another moment to realize that it was Jareth who confronted her, his expression cool and amused as she gaped at him.

When she found her voice, it came out shrill with anger and hurt and terror and above all, a bone-deep _need_. "Give me back my baby!"

He smirked at her, and suddenly a blanketed bundle appeared in his arms. He looked down, his expression unreadable, before looking up at her, his eyes chips of flint, of ice, of everything cold and unyielding that had ever existed. There was winter in his voice when he spoke again. "No."

"Jareth, please!" she cried, slamming her hands against the ungiving glass. When he made as if to leave, she backed off, her voice pleading: "Give him back to me! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to give him up, I tried to tell you I changed my mind…"

The Goblin King ignored her demands, the entreaty in her eyes and form, peering down with what looked remarkably like a tender smile at the small form nestled in his embrace. When he looked back up, however, the smile vanished like sea spray on a windless day. "Give him back? When you wished him away? I don't think so, Sarah."

"I never…" she started to say, then swallowed nervously. She might not have used the formula of "I wish the goblins would take you away right now" but she'd signed the adoption papers. She'd wished her own son away, not with a magic spell but with the help of an attorney and legal forms. How could she have been so stupid?

"Please," she whispered, hating the whimper in her voice but willing to do anything, say anything, to make him believe her. "Please, Jareth. Give him back. I changed my mind. I changed my mind the second I saw him, the moment they put him in my arms. I want him. I love him."

"Too late." The cruel triumph in Jareth's eyes vanished, to be replaced with what she could only call a combination of hurt and fury and, perhaps, disappointment. "You gave him over to the care of strangers before ever he'd breathed his first breath. He is my son, and he will be raised by me." He lifted the tiny form and turned it, just enough for Sarah to see the sleeping baby's face with its wisp of golden hair and delicate features. "Say goodbye, Sarah. You wished him away, and this is the last you'll ever see of him."

The forms in the mirror blurred and vanished, replaced by Sarah's wild-eyed reflection. "Jareth?" she called out, reaching with trembling fingers to stroke the solid glass of the mirror. "Jareth?" she said, louder this time, then screamed his name a third time. "Jareth! Give me back my baby!"

Her hands fisted themselves into ineffectual weapons and she pounded them against the glass, still screaming for Jareth to give her back her son. The glass shattered and cut her hands, dozens of slivers imbedding themselves in her skin, but still she pounded the broken mirror, continuing to scream even as a pair of nurses appeared and tried to pull her away.

In the end, it took a doctor with a sedative to calm the wild animal she'd transformed into, the needle piercing flesh and forcing a false calm upon her soul.

The last thing she saw was the cracked and shattered mirror, red with her blood, reflecting nothing but darkness that no one else saw, too busy with her to look at the damaged glass behind them.

And in the darkness, a pair of mismatched eyes seemed to watch balefully as she faded into unconsciousness.


	5. Caught Up In Traps Of Our Own Devising

_A/N: Sorry for the long delay but this chapter gave me fits. I hope it was worth the wait._

* * *

><p><strong>The Underground<strong>

"Jareth."

The Goblin King turned to face the voice, bowing his head in acknowledgement of the Queen of the Fae. "Mother. What an…unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe the honor of your presence in my realm?"

Myria, Queen of the Fae, Ruler of the Hundred Magical Realms, raised one elegantly pointed golden-hued eyebrow before allowing her gaze to drift to the small bundle her son held cradled in his arms. "I come to greet my grandson, of course. Have you chosen a name for him?"

"Liam," he said, unable to contain the pride he felt for his son. He'd only had him for an hour, had only known about his existence for a week, and yet already the tiny form was the most precious thing to him. Even more precious than the child's mother, to whom he had offered everything…and who had thrown it all away. Just as she'd intended to throw their son away, to give him over to strangers who would do nothing to nurture his Fae gifts…

He ignored the small, mocking voice in the back of his head that reminded him that Sarah had changed her mind, or at least claimed to. That it was his own fault she'd spurned everything he'd tried to offer her…that he'd taken the wrong tactic with her the first time and hadn't learned from his mistakes this time.

No. He unconsciously held his son closer. He hadn't erred; she simply hadn't understood what it meant when one of the High Fae offered his heart, shared his body and willingly sacrificed his kingdom (yes, he'd been able to rebuild it, brick by brick, but it had taken months after her rejection of him had destroyed it), all in the name of love.

A love she'd thrown in his face.

A love he was trying very, very hard to convince himself had turned to hatred.

A love his mother had no trouble recognizing, judging by the expression of stern sympathy on her ageless face as she reached up and touched him carefully on the cheek. "My son, tell me about the mortal who owns your heart. Why did you tear her son from her arms? Why did you not bring her to join us, to become one of us, if you love her enough to get a child on her?"

He bowed his head. There it was, the shame he couldn't overcome. He'd fallen in love with a mortal, the only way one of his kind could procreate with non-Fae. And then, damaged both physically and emotionally by her rejection of him, he'd deliberately ignored her, refused to seek her out even in her dreams, where he'd first discovered her passionate, tender heart. And refused to allow the friends she'd made in his realm to seek her out as well.

Instead, he'd foolishly isolated her from him, walling up his heart in a desperate attempt to save himself – and in doing so, forced her into making choices the two of them should have made together.

"I've…made a mistake, Mother," he said softly, his eyes filled with the vision of the girl he'd wronged even as they lingered on the sleeping child they'd made together. He raised his head and allowed his mother to see the guilt and anguish in his face. "I banished myself from her after I took our son," he whispered. "She is locked away from me; I've forbidden myself access to her and must abide by the spell I cast."

"For how long?" was his mother's patient question, her fingertips still cool against the heated, humiliated flush on his cheeks.

He sighed before answering, shoulders slumping in unaccustomed sorrow as he responded. "Two mortal years. I altered time and the memories of those around her, and banished myself from her side for two mortal years."

His mother's fingers dipped down, to stroke his son's plump, rosy cheek. Already the boy looked more peaceful, healthier than when he'd first been born, after only a few hours in the Underground. He'd been such a fool; Sarah had no way of knowing that their child would eventually sicken and possibly even die if left alone in the care of mere humans.

Then he remembered how cruelly she'd rejected him, how easy it had seemed for her to give their son away, and his anger returned.

Sensing the return of her son's anger – and not liking it one bit – his mother spoke again. "Jareth, my son, when that time of self-imposed exile ends, you must allow this girl to join us here. Even if she is only a mortal, she is still your child's mother."

Jareth cradled Liam in his arms protectively, refusing to acknowledge the twinge of guilt he felt at her words to show. "No. She gave him up, Mother. Tried to send him away to live with others who would be ill-equipped at best to understand or properly care for him – and you know how their world affects us when we spend long periods of time there," he reminded her with a pointed look at his son. Jareth lifted his chin stubbornly. "She deserves to be punished for that decision."

"A decision her own parents no doubt drove her to, am I right?" Queen Myria raised one eyebrow, her son's answering silence and glower speaking volumes to her keen eyes and mother's heart. "And now your decision to take your child and leave the mother behind has had consequences you did not foresee, has it not?"

The stab of guilt grew to an ache in his gut, and he dropped soft kiss to his son's downy blonde head in an attempt to assuage it. "It is not my fault Sarah was unable to cope with the loss of something she'd already given up," he mumbled, knowing full well how his mother would take his words.

As predicted, she gave a very unladylike snort and shook her head. "No, Jareth, but it is your fault she is in this predicament in the first place." Her voice dropped to a sympathetic murmur as she went on. "You have magically bound yourself away from her for two years, but you can at the very least use your control over time in your realm to compress that time here to but a few seconds, can you not?"

With a very pointed look at the newborn cradled in Jareth's arms, she waited for him to respond to her attempt at persuasion.

After a long moment, Jareth finally bowed his head. "It will be as you ask, Mother. I will give Sarah the chance to redeem her foolish decision as soon as she is able to contact her friends in my realm."

He would do as his mother asked, when the two years were up; he would offer Sarah the opportunity to join her son in the Underground but he would withhold the previous offer he'd made.

She would always be the mother of his son, but he would never take her as his queen.

**Two Years Later**

It was strange, being home. Being back in her room.

It was strange, it was unsettling.

It was _wrong_.

Her room looked the same; the bed freshly made, everything all dusted and clean, the floor swept, everything exactly where she'd left it.

Wrong. So wrong.

She peered into her closet and breathed a shaky sigh of relief; there, at last, evidence she hadn't just dreamed away the past two years, much as she'd like that to be true. All her old clothes were gone, outgrown and given away or thrown out, whatever. All she had now were the clothes she'd brought with her from Shadybrook and the promise of a ripping good shopping trip in New York City with her mother to buy new clothes. When she felt up to it.

What kind of clothes, Sarah wondered dully, were appropriate for a recently released mental patient to wear?

She glanced down at herself. Well, baggy sweats and a plain gray t-shirt were comfortable enough, but did she really want to spend the rest of her life in clothes like that? Clothes that made her invisible, that hid her away from the world even more efficiently than the brick walls of Shadybrook Sanitarium?

Was that what she really wanted, or was it just the last, lingering effects of the medication in her system? She was supposed to stay on the lithium and other "mood stabilizers" for an unspecified amount of time, while she remained under Dr. Surdam's care on an outpatient basis, but she hated the way they made her feel. She wasn't crazy, had never been crazy, but had been forced to pretend that yes, she'd had a mental breakdown after her "car accident" and "coma" and just imagined everything that had happened to her in the Underground and the nine months that followed.

That she hadn't ever had a baby.

It had been a struggle to reach that point. She'd fought against it, insisting over and over again to a series of politely disbelieving doctors and nurses that she hadn't had a breakdown, that she really had given birth to a son who'd been stolen away by his father.

The Goblin King.

How, she wondered cynically, could they possibly have doubted her?

Why had it taken her so long to finally give in and agree that yes, she'd lost touch with reality? Why hadn't she realized that it was all they wanted to hear? If she'd gone along with the lie, she would have been released that much sooner.

Or perhaps not; Dr. Surdam had taken a great deal of convincing once she decided to stop fighting and just go along with the lies. "You believed this so deeply, Sarah, that you understand why I can't just accept you at your word when you tell me that you realize you never had a baby, never visited this 'Underground' world you so vividly described to me many times over our sessions."

God, she hated that man. But eventually even he had been forced to agree that she was no longer living in a fantasy world, that she'd actually been "cured" of what he termed her delusions and could once again tell reality from fantasy.

Finally, she'd been allowed to return home. A home that meant very little to her now except as the place where she'd once given up her baby brother to the same evil bastard who'd had custody of her son for the past two years.

She wondered what he looked like, if he remembered her in even the tiniest way, knowing how impossible that was as she did so. He'd barely been minutes old when Jareth snatched him out of her arms and stole him away. She wondered, with a feeling of dread, if even now Jareth was whispering poison into her son's ears, telling him how his mother hadn't wanted him, had wished him away, how she'd never loved him…

Sarah stifled her cry of grief by stuffing her fist into her mouth; no sense giving her over-anxious father and step-mother an excuse to look in on her, to follow her around with worried eyes as they studied her for signs of continued instability.

She wanted to hate them for sending her to that place, for leaving her there, but she couldn't. Not fully. Not knowing that it was her own fault, that she really had gone a little crazy once she realized that Jareth wasn't going to give her back her son.

She sat on the edge of her bed and studied her hands, turning them this way and that as she raised them in front of her face. There were numerous tiny scars on her fingers and palms from the mirror she'd smashed in her desperation to make Jareth hear her, and the mirrors she'd smashed afterwards before they'd been utterly removed from her life. She'd wanted to make him change his mind and give her back her son…or at least allow her to join them in the Underground. He could have done that much for her, given her the choice of leaving her son or leaving her life Aboveground behind. And she wouldn't have hesitated, would have agreed to anything to be with him and their son.

She shook her head and gave a disbelieving laugh. How could she possibly still harbor feelings for that bastard after what he'd put her through? It was his fault she'd spent two years in a mental facility while everyone around her tried to convince her that the truth was a lie. His fault for stealing her baby from her…

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. No. One thing she'd come to realize over the past two years, whenever the medication allowed her to think clearly, was that this was as much her own fault as Jareth's. She'd willingly given her son up, even if she'd changed her mind the second she saw him.

She'd never given him a name, she realized with a start as she felt the tears leaking from her eyes, dripping through the cage of her fingers. She'd never even allowed herself to think of a single name, because doing so would make the baby real. And wasn't it ironic, she thought bitterly, that she'd spent so much of her pregnancy in denial of the reality she was facing.

Mirrors. Her bedroom mirror was still intact; she'd been allowed access to mirrors only six months ago, when she'd finally started to cave in and pretend that there had never been a baby. She'd resisted the urge to call out to Jareth, to Hoggle, to anyone who might be watching from the other side, knowing that she was being watched very carefully for any such signs of her 'delusions' returning. But now that she was home, in her own bedroom, no longer under 24-hour surveillance…

No. She wouldn't do it, wouldn't try to contact anyone. Jareth was the Goblin King, ruler of the Goblin Realm; if he'd meant to take pity on her and allow her friends to contact her, he'd have done so by now. She knew time passed differently in the Underground, that for them it had been much longer than two years, and her stomach clenched in renewed sorrow as she wondered once again how old her son would be now. Or if she'd recognize him, if his hair was still blond or had darkened to brown, what color his eyes had settled on…

"Sarah?"

She gasped and whirled at the sound of that voice from behind her, eyes wide with wonder and disbelief as she saw Hoggle standing in front of her dressing table, looking oddly tentative. "You all right, Sarah? Where ya been, we been lookin' for ya everywhere!"

Then she flew off the bed and held him to her in a tight hug as she sobbed out her relief in a babble of words that soon devolved into hiccups and gasps for breath. Hoggle held her throughout the storm, for once not seeming at all embarrassed by her show of emotion – or by his own. Because he wasn't just holding her, he was rubbing her back in soothing circles and whispering nonsense in her ear, just like a parent comforting a small child, and she wondered how he'd learned that skill.

That, in fact, was the first question she blurted out once she had control of herself again. He seated himself next to her on the floor, one arm stretched around her shoulder while she held tightly to his free hand. "Got married a while back," was his laconic reply. "Got two kiddies o' me own now." He sounded proud, and well he should; Sarah was happy for him, but something of her continued sorrow must have sounded in her voice or shown on her face, because Hoggle's proud grin vanished as he squeezed her hand. "I know what happened to ya, Sarah. I know ya had a baby; Didymus saw ya in the mirror when ya was still bulgin' out." He looked around the room expectantly. "So where's the little 'un now?"

Sarah stared at him. "You mean you…you don't know? Hasn't Jareth shown him off yet?" she asked bitterly.

"No one's seen hide nor hair o' the Goblin King for nigh on four years now," Hoggle replied. "Banned us all from usin' the mirrors, too," he added with a scowl. "Wouldn't let us do nothin' but watch you for a bit, and then even that was taken away from us."

"But now you can come through again," Sarah said eagerly, wiping her nose and eyes and rising up on her knees. "You can take me through, right?"

"So's ya can get yer babe back from the King? Of course I can!" Hoggle exclaimed, jumping up to his feet and tugging on her hand. "Whenever yer ready."

"Now, I'm ready now," Sarah replied. Hoggle took both her hands in his, clenched his eyes shut, and willed them both back to the Underground.

When he opened his eyes, however, he found himself in the Goblin King's gardens, alone.

"She comes when I bring her, Hogmush, not a second sooner," came Jareth's disembodied voice, echoing eerily through the cool night air.

Hoggle muttered, "It's Hoggle, an' ya know it!" under his breath, but made no other protest. He could circumvent the King's will in many ways, but not when it came to transporting others in or out of his realm; that was the solely his purview. If he allowed it, then others could manage, but if he forbade it…well, then, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Still, the King's words gave him a certain amount of hope; he hadn't said 'she's never coming through', he'd said 'when I bring her'.

Keeping that in mind, Hoggle trudged off to where he knew the others would be waiting for him, including his darling Hasty and their two boys, Hamish and Hrothgar. He only hoped Sarah would forgive him for his apparent abandonment of her.


	6. Wish Yourself Away

_A/N: I know it's been a while and I'm sorry. I hope to get updates out faster in the future, but of course no promises. Thanks for the reviews and your patience._

_Previously:_

"_But now you can come through again," Sarah said eagerly, wiping her nose and eyes and rising up on her knees. "You can take me through, right?"_

"_So's ya can get yer babe back from the King? Of course I can!" Hoggle exclaimed, jumping up to his feet and tugging on her hand. "Whenever yer ready."_

"_Now, I'm ready now," Sarah replied. Hoggle took both her hands in his, clenched his eyes shut, and willed them both back to the Underground._

_When he opened his eyes, however, he found himself in the Goblin King's gardens, alone._

"_She comes when I bring her, Hogmush, not a second sooner," came Jareth's disembodied voice, echoing eerily through the cool night air._

* * *

><p>Sarah nearly screamed in frustration when Hoggle vanished right in front of her, leaving her stuck on the wrong side of the damned mirror. Again. Part of her wanted to smash it to pieces, to stomp the pieces into fragments and scream and scream and scream until her throat was raw; the part of her that knew better, luckily, remained in control and she did none of those things. Instead, she walked very calmly to the low vanity, sat down in front of it, folded her hands in front of her, leaned forward and said, in a quiet, even voice: "I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away to be with my son."<p>

There was no reaction to her words; the mirror's surface didn't ripple, Jareth's smirking face didn't appear, her reflection remained steady, but there was a listening quality to the very stillness in the room that Sarah found encouraging.

Fighting down her hope, she took a deep breath, pushed back her chair, stood up, and turned around.

He was there, in the room with her. No crash of lightning or dramatic winds heralded his entrance; he was simply standing by her bed, arms folded on his chest, expression blank as he waited for her to acknowledge his presence.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sarah forced herself to move toward him, a single, hesitant step at a time. Neither his expression nor his posture changed until she stopped within arm's length of him, forcing herself to meet his cold gaze. After a moment he uncoiled one arm and held his hand out to her. She took it firmly, then waited for the world to shift around them.

_As the world falls down…_

Oh, so dizzy, she didn't remember being so dizzy the last time she'd entered the Goblin King's realm; unmindful of anything but the spinning of her head, she clutched the leather vest covering Jareth's chest, her head following her hand until she was leaning against him, his arm encircling her shaking body, breathing in the heady scent of leather and sweat and male and a crisp _something_ she could never identify – but that was wholly, only, Jareth.

_How you turn my world, you precious thing…_

"Everything's dancing," she murmured, fragments of Jareth's songs echoing through her mind. She thought she'd dreamed him singing to her, about her, the way she thought she'd dreamed so much of what had happened between them, but, in his arms in the vortex between worlds, she wasn't so sure. Wasn't sure of anything, truth be told, except the confusing comfort she took being in his arms.

_Oh, dangerous thoughts, isn't that what got you in trouble in the first place!_

She gasped and pulled away from Jareth as she heard that purring taunt in her mind; eyes wide, she stared at him and stumbled back, releasing her death-grip on his vest, only belatedly wondering if she'd find herself tumbling away into darkness…but no. Her foot landed on solid earth; she looked down automatically and saw sandy-brown stone under her bare foot. A glance at her body showed her to be wearing exactly what she'd had on when Jareth had first appeared: baggy blue sweats and a shapeless gray t-shirt. She shivered as a sudden chill went over her that had nothing to do with the temperature surrounding her. "Are you – is this real?" she whispered, clutching her arms around herself in sudden terror that she would blink and find herself back in the institution, coming out of another vivid dream of her time in the Labyrinth.

Of course he didn't answer her, merely offered an enigmatic smile before turning and walking away from her. She was clearly expected to just follow him, but her old stubborn streak (especially where he was concerned) came roaring back, and she simply stood there, doing her best to shake off her terror (fear of this moment's unreality, not fear of him, of course).

When he was a few yards away, Jareth finally spoke. "You wished yourself here for a reason, Sarah. If you don't actually want to see Liam, then I can send you right back where you came from."

His words were a spur, a goad and worked as he clearly expected them to; Sarah rushed forward, racing to join him, her heart pounding in mingled fear and joy. It had been two years after all; her son would be a toddler…or older? Hadn't Hoggle said something about it being four years since they'd seen the Goblin King? She knew time worked differently in the Underground; the last time, she and Toby had been gone from home less than two hours while twelve had passed here.

So if four years had passed…her heart sank as she realized the golden haired toddler she'd been envisioning was likely to be older than Toby now! "When will I get to see him?" she demanded breathlessly as she reached the Goblin King's side. "My son – our son, Liam – will he know me when he sees me?" She needed to know before she saw him so she could prepare herself; had Jareth told him horror stories of the mother who'd abandoned him, or told him nothing at all? Would she be treated as a stranger or the monster who'd wished her away?

"Patience," was all Jareth said. Sarah thought she might scream but managed to keep it choked down. As if sensing her restraint, he slanted her a sideways glance and curled his lips in a knowing grin.

Sarah was bursting with questions but kept them to herself since he clearly wasn't going to answer any of them. Still, she couldn't help muttering "It's not fair" under her breath, fists clenching as she immediately heard the Goblin King's mocking laughter.

After that, it would have taken a pry bar to open her lips, she clamped them shut so tightly. Instead she focused on her son; her arms literally ached to hold him, why was Jareth making them walk to wherever he was rather than simply materializing them next to him?

The answer to that came as they approached a small cottage tucked away in the woods next to a babbling brook, the entire area surrounded by a shimmering curtain of golden light that could only be magical in nature. With a gesture, Jareth made it vanish, finally turning to face her as they came to a stop in front of the bridge that arched over the water. "He's inside here, where he's been ever since you wished him away, Sarah." She flinched at the accusation in his tone, but could hardly deny it since it was essentially what she'd done when she'd given her baby up for adoption. "Kept safe from the whims and caprices of the Labyrinth and any who might wish him harm – and most importantly, from Time itself," he added with heavy emphasis.

Sarah's eyes widened as she took in his meaning. "You-you mean he's still…still a newborn?" she whispered disbelievingly. "He's still – he's the same age as when you took him?"

"He's the same age as when you wished him away," Jareth corrected her with a glower. Sarah was too overwhelmed to feel anything but excitement; after two long, frustrating, terrible years, she was finally going to get to see her baby. To hold him in her arms. To kiss him and tell him she loved him.

Taking a deep breath, she set one foot on the bridge, the first step on the way towards a long-awaited reunion.

**oOo**

Jareth watched as Sarah rushed over the bridge and hurried to the cottage where their son had lain in a dreamless sleep for two mortal years. His emotions were in turmoil, something he was neither used to nor fond of. He was the one in control, so why did he feel so conflicted? Seeing Sarah again, no longer the woman-child yet still so human, so vulnerable…the way she'd clung to him when he brought them to the Underground, the feel of her soft curves in his arms evoking bittersweet memories of their time together, her obvious fear that none of this was real, her palpable joy at the idea of holding Liam in her arms…he could banish none of those memories no matter how hard her tried. He hated her for giving their son away, didn't he? For rejecting him, for (temporarily) destroying his kingdom, for bringing so much pain and chaos (far more than even a Goblin King who normally rejoiced in chaos could handle!) in her wake…but most disconcerting of all was the fact that all he wanted to do right now was join her. To see the joy in her eyes (and the tears, for of course she would cry) as she reunited with their son.

But no. That wasn't his role today; he wasn't fated to be doting father and lover. Sarah would reject him as she had once before, and so he steeled his heart and schooled his features into cold indifference as he forced himself to keep to a casual stroll as he made his way to the cottage.

Even though she'd broken his heart as surely as he'd broken hers, he would never let her know.


End file.
